Part 6 Most of the things that he had planned they did. “I don’t know how, but I always manage to find a 164 fiddle if there is one around. A dark mass of wreckage, over which hung a slight mist of vapour, lay half in the ditch, half across the hedge, close under a tree from the trunk of which the bark had been torn and stripped. I should have gone mad without it. It was not a cambric curtain Ruth had drawn across that part of her life: it was of iron.
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